


Words for Thought

by Anonymous_Kumquat



Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen, Poetry, Raw - Freeform, Short, Short Story, Surreal, Thought-Inspiring, collection, personal, poetry collection, vulnerable
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-18
Updated: 2019-08-08
Packaged: 2020-07-07 21:27:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19858276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anonymous_Kumquat/pseuds/Anonymous_Kumquat
Summary: A collection of poems and short stories to, perhaps, make you think.





	1. The Equalizing Disparity

She was a self-prescribed dreamer. Her head drifted among the clouds abandoning her body on the ground. A dreamer she was, with her head in the heavens, until one day, the tether broke and her mind drifted beyond the world. The only trouble now is that she can’t get back to her body. 

…

He was a non-committal hedonist that knew intimately the great thrills of ecstasy and the pits of despair. He slowly abandoned everything in his life, one by one, in a reckless attempt to fill the emptiness. Now that he’s older, he falls into depression: no longer the young charmer that he used to be and with nothing to go back to, he is a prisoner in his own flesh.


	2. Together Alone

Janelle liked to watch the stars at night, because even if she had no one else that understood her, she knew they did. She confessed to them her problems, her hopes, her aspirations. She thought she was the only one.

Noah often snuck out to gaze at the night sky. He imagined that even if his parents scorned him, the stars would accept him. It eased his heart staring at them, even though he was alone, he reflected.

Avery sat under the heavens as a way to relieve her loneliness. It was a foreign town but the stars were still the same. They may not have any friends at school, but the stars were as good a companion as any, even if Avery was the only one.

And many more sat under the night sky, gazing at the stars with romantic notions of their isolation and future.

They all sat there, and many more too, looking up at blackness speckled with the glowing white dots, physically apart, but closer than they could ever know.

They sat there driven by their individual circumstances and problems.

They sat together thinking that they were

a

l

o

n

e

under the night sky. Under the stars.

Not knowing they were together.


	3. And How My Child Screams (1/2)

Let me tell you a little something while you're here

In my heart, I hold a chest

In that chest, I hold a secret:

It has the appearance of a baby or a fetus.

Its face is the ugliest that you will ever set eyes on.

And the skin is a raw, hideous pink.

Sometimes the fetus is good:

It will sleep quietly in my little chest and not make a sound

Not even a whisper

But sometimes, it's very naughty

It will cry, and scream, and shriek

Its cries are the ugliest noises you ever did hear.

And when it cries, my whole heart aches from its vileness.

Truly, it is the ugliest thing I hold in my heart

That's why I keep it in its little box

It's why I never let it out

Because if I took the thing out

It's ugliness

It's hideousness

It's vileness

They would surely rot my heart from the inside out.

I peer out of my dank and mildewy heart to take a look at you

How the rich prizes drip from you

How the eyes gleam at you

How the mouths spill what my ears dream to hear

How you glow with praise

Oh, and how my heart aches

How my mouth salivates

How my fingers yearn to grasp

How my whole being shakes

And how my fetus screams

But I am not daft

So I seal my mouth shut

I keep a sharp watch of my tongue

I shine my heart with the finest polish

And draw the curtains over the windows

That way no one can see the rot festering inside

For my child has outgrown its box

(The remains lay crushed under its body)

It has made waste of my heart instead with its filthiness

And I don't have the stamina to keep building it boxes

So instead I'll cover the windows

I'll lock the doors

I'll seal all entryways

And content myself to rot inside with my child

Because my child's filth is contagious:

The stench fills your head with its horribleness

Its screams fill your mind

Until the grotesque sounds are all you can think of

And so, with my child, I rot

Dreaming of somewhere other than this place

Listlessly, I look through the cracks of light between the curtains

Wishing

Dreaming

Hoping

Weeping

It's a symphony of hideousness  
  
My ugly whimpers mixing with those of my child

Oh, how I cry

And how my child screams


End file.
